


Curious

by remanth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, Sabriel - Freeform, Wings, feathers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:17:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remanth/pseuds/remanth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since he first started hunting, Sam's had a guardian that comes to him in his dreams and heals him. Then he finds out who the white being really is</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curious

Sam had always been a curious child. He remembered exploring every inch of the motel rooms he and Dean had stayed in while their father was gone. When he was 8 or so, he found his father's journal and realized that there really were monsters out there. Over the next few years, he asked Dean constant questions when their father was gone, learning as much as he could.

When Sam was 12, he was sent on his own information-gathering hunts by their father. John believed that his boys needed to learn early how to hunt and how to fight the things that go bump in the night. He acquitted himself well on that hunt, finding out the information and dealing with the monster himself. Though he did come away with a long, bloody scratch down his chest.

He doctored the cut with Dean's help and went to sleep with an itchy bandage across his chest. That night, he dreamed of a white being singing softly to him. The song sounded old and Sam thought he caught words he almost recognized. The being laid a glowing hand on his chest and Sam felt warmth flooding him. None of his hunting instincts were screaming danger, so Sam relaxed into the warmth and smiled at the white being. The last thing he heard before dropping into a deeper slumber and the dream left him was the quiet fluttering of wings.

The next morning, Sam found a golden brown feather next to his head on the pillow. He pressed it into the middle of one of his favorite books and didn't tell Dean or his father. He felt excited to have a secret of his own and he wanted to the keep the white being for himself.

This cycle repeated several times over the next six years, a beautiful feather lying next to his pillow in the morning after Sam was hurt. The white being always looked the same in Sam's dreams, though more and more details appeared the more he dreamt. The first was the golden eyes, the same shade as the feathers. They looked at him with love and tenderness and compassion and Sam imagined he could see the universe swirling in them.

The next detail to appear was the being's height. He was about 5 foot 8 and, at this point, taller than Sam. Though when he hit a growth spurt at 17, Sam shot up to be almost a foot taller than the being. One thing that amused Sam was that no matter how tall he got, he always felt smaller and cradled by what he'd started calling his guardian.

Tawny hair and a mocking smile were the last details that became clear. Whenever he saw the smile, Sam couldn't help but smile back. It was as if the two were sharing a private joke. After one particularly difficult hunt, Sam could only lie painfully on his side or on his stomach. Something fast and clawed had made a mess of his back and Dean had bandaged him as best he could. In his dream, Sam ran his fingers through the tawny hair as the white being knelt next to his bed. It was silky and curled around his fingers.

When Sam left for Stanford, he brought the book he'd pressed the feathers into. There were 46 of them, kept neat and unbroken between the pages. He never lost his curiousity, always wondering what had come to him each time, but he didn't see the being again the whole time he was at Stanford.

It wasn't until he was hunting again with Dean, looking for their father, that he was injured again. He cleaned himself up, bandaging the knife wound on his arm. As he fell asleep that night, the white being appeared to him again, running a hand down his back. Letting the warmth and feeling of safety wash over him, Sam reached out and held onto the forearm of the being. He needed the contact.

\-----------------------------------------

Sam's least favorite monster to hunt was a pagan god called a Trickster. But the part that annoyed him the most was how much the monster looked like his guardian. They had the same mocking smile and golden brown eyes. Sam even felt as if he was in no danger from the creature. Though when Dean drove the stake through him, Sam thought that was the end of it.

The next couple times they met the Trickster, Sam still felt the niggling sense of recognition. It made no sense and he discounted it until they learned who the Trickster really was. What the Trickster really was.

"Gabriel? The archangel?" Sam asked, his voice trembling with shock. Gabriel just looked at him, sadness in his eyes. The archangel knew the Winchester's prevalent emotions towards angels and the only archangels they'd met so far were dicks. And what he'd done at the Mystery Spot wasn't much better.

After finding out why they were the focus of the Apocalypse, they walked away and Dean turned on the sprinkler system to let Gabriel go. Sam looked back once, wondering if this was the being who'd protected him in his dreams since he was 12. He could see him in the golden eyes and the memory of a snarky grin.

Dean drove them back to the motel they were staying in and left immediately for the nearest bar. Sam stayed, wanting to get a little more information. When he was sure he was alone, Sam prayed as he hadn't done in a long time. At the end of it, he heard the familiar fluttering of wings and Gabriel appeared in the room, a guarded look on his face.

"Hello, kiddo," Gabriel said when Sam said nothing. "You prayed, I came. Something on your mind?" Instead of replying, Sam pulled out an old and battered hardcover copy of The Hobbit and handed it to the confused archangel. Gabriel opened the book to a random page and saw a golden brown feather preserved between the pages.

"Was it you?" Sam asked. "Were you the one coming into my dreams and healing me?" Gabriel ran a finger down the feather and closed the book, handing it back to Sam. He paced over to the beds and sat down on one, looking up at the hunter.

"Yes, I was," he admitted simply.

"Why?" Sam asked, glaring at the archangel. He started to pace the room, trying to work off some of the nervous energy.

"That's a complicated question, Sammy," Gabriel hedged. "You know I've known it was always going to come down to you two. I've been watching you since you were born."

"Why?" Sam repeated, his voice breaking. "What the hell is the point, Gabriel?"

"I cared about what happened to you, ok?" Gabriel finally snapped. "You were born on the day I'm the guardian of, Sam. And I've grown to like you."

Sam stopped pacing to stare at the archangel, wondering what could have prompted his attention in the first place. He was the boy with demon blood, the abomination to other angels. And this one actually cared about him? Moving to the other bed, Sam sat down and studied Gabriel, losing himself in the golden brown eyes that he'd seen since he was 14.

"Thank you," Sam said softly. Gabriel nodded and reached out across the space between the beds to pat Sam's arm.

"Anytime, kiddo," Gabriel said, his eyes soft with affection. He disappeared with a fluttering of wings and Sam smiled to himself. Angels really were watching over both of them.


End file.
